


you make me into a mess

by qynntessence



Series: 'tis the season [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Sickfic, is anyone surprised, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 20:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5599384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qynntessence/pseuds/qynntessence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I love you so much,” Alex says breathlessly when John stops them, yet again, to sneeze against Alex’s shirt sleeve. “John Laurens, you make me so fucking happy. Thank you for taking care of me and focusing me and holding me and helping me through nightmares and kissing me-”<br/><br/>“Alex, it’s very difficult to accomplish that last one when your lips are still moving.” John traces a finger down Alexander’s cheek, watching as he shivers under the touch, and smiles at his reaction.</p><p>--</p><p>Where John catches Alex's Christmas flu, Alex catches John's Christmas worrying, and they kiss anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you make me into a mess

**Author's Note:**

> Is anyone surprised that I'm writing sickfic? At all? Because apparently I have a Type and this is it. But anyway. Here is more pure fluff, because apparently I can do that now.
> 
> This is a sequel of sorts to my Christmas fluff fic (found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5530406)), but can definitely be read as a stand-alone!
> 
> As always, if there's anything in the TW you don't want to read, leave a comment/hit me up on tumblr/contact me somehow and I'll send you an edited version!
> 
> TW for casual swearing, casual mentions of sex, non-sexual nakedness

“John? How are you feeling, dearest?” Alexander looks nervous as he ducks into their bedroom, hands fidgeting in his pockets.

“Shitty. This is not how I imagined my vacation with you,” John rasps, turning away from him to sneeze forcefully into a tissue. Alex replaces the washcloth on his forehead with a fresh cold one, the way he’s been doing for four days, and John sighs quietly.

“If I tell you that I love you, does that make it better?” Alex asks quietly, running his fingers through John’s soft, knotted hair, stuck to his face with sweat.

“Not as much as you’d like. How in the world did you do paperwork when you felt like this?”

“Used to it. I’m very good at hiding how bad I feel when there’s stuff to do,” He answers automatically, “I was sick through most of finals in college. None of you ever knew.” John smiles sadly up at him, his boyfriend who still believed he had to be flawless to succeed in any way. John would bend earth and sky to convince Alex that he was enough.

“We suspected,” John responds before his body shakes with another coughing fit. He tries to turn away from Alexander, kneeling in front of him, but Alex just pulls him upright and strokes his hair. “And we worried, Alexander. Just so you know.” John collapses back into the bed, wiping his eyes lightly.

“Enough about college. I need to take your temperature, John. Open up.” A pause, then a beep. “You’re going down, but it’s still too high- 101.8. But it’s noon, so hopefully you’re on the last leg of it,” Alex tends to ramble when he frets, pressing a hand to John’s cheek as if to confirm that he’s burning up. “I’m so, so sorry, John. I wanted our vacation to be _special_ and you’re sick and it’s all my fault and I’m sorry.” John catches his wrist as he heads towards the bathroom.

“Alex. Alex, baby, it’s alright. I’m going to be fine. And before you even start, no, you did not ruin New Year’s, just like you didn’t ruin Christmas. Just come here.” John lifts the blankets up for him, even as it makes him shiver, and Alex complies, snuggling against his feverish boyfriend. He hasn’t slept right in weeks- between trying to finish paperwork, being sick, and then John being sick, his sleep schedule had warped until he maybe managed a few hours a night. John’s presence, even if overheated, is comforting, calming his heart to a steady pace. “There we go. Relax, Alexander. You deserve it.” He sneezes twice and Alex winces as he hands John the tissue box, trying his best to not smother his boyfriend, but his mind wanders too easily to _what if_ s and worst scenarios. He’s too wired to crash, and even if he could calm down, he’s too focused on the fact that John’s breathing is hitching to let it put him to sleep, but he hears John’s snuffling snores above him and calms enough to read through a novel on his phone instead of WebMD.

\--

John awakens to a warm mass pressed to his stomach, his chest, his shoulder. “Alex?” He grumbles thickly, trying to clear his throat.

“John,” Alex says his name softly, kindly, as if trying to make up for the cruelness of the world with a single word. “Is the light bothering you? Do you want another cold cloth? I didn’t want to wake you by moving.” He turns his phone off and pulls himself upwards on the bed, laying so that their foreheads pressed together. “Do you need anything, my love?”

“What time is it?” He coughs, and Alex strokes at his cheek softly.

“It’s seven o’clock in the evening on New Year’s Eve, darling. You slept for a while, but you always say that you usually get over stuff by sleeping through it, so I didn’t wake you, but I did take your temperature every few hours like you told me to, and, uh, I wrote it down-”

“Alex. Alex, breathe. It’s okay. Thank you. When did you last check?” He grabs a tissue and blows his nose as Alex turns to his phone.

“About an hour ago. You were at 100.4. That’s good, right?” He looks nervous and John laughs lightly enough that he doesn’t start coughing.

“Yes, Alex, that’s good. That means I’m getting better. The cough and congestion will probably last a bit, but that’s normal. Speaking of which, how are you feeling? God knows you aren’t getting enough sleep, and I worry about you.” John kisses the top of his head carefully and he can feel Alexander blush.

“I’m fine, John. You should be getting better, not trying to make sure I’m okay.” John laces his fingers into Alex’s hair, noting the tangles that were probably there from stress.

“Alexander. I’m not going to be mad, I just want to know.” And panic, slightly, because Alex already got sick far too often for John to be comfortable with, but there was no way he would tell Alex that. “I worry about you, dearest, but it’s because I care about you.”

“I’m still a little stuffy and I’m coughing a lot at night. But I’m fine!” He protests, moving closer to fit his head under John’s chin. “Please, please, please don’t worry about me.”

“Alright. I want you to pick up cough syrup the next time you go out, baby- don’t give me that look, you need to be sleeping and it’ll help. I’m a doctor, Alex, you should trust me.” He coughs a few times, trying to ignore the fact that the pain in his chest is returning, and strokes Alex’s hair.

“You can’t even see my face, how do you know that I’m giving you a look? Besides, you’re a doctor who is just a tiny bit biased,” Alex mutters, but he moves to kiss the tip of John’s nose and smiles at him anyway. “Do you even count as a doctor? Like, I know you went to med school, but you just teach there now, does that even count? Ow!” Alex laughs freely as John shoves him out of bed.

“Yes, I am a doctor, and as your doctor, I’m telling you to buy cough syrup. It’s the only thing that works for you besides NyQuil, babe, and you need your sleep.” And John had used the last of the NyQuil last night, when it was two in the morning and he couldn’t stop sniffling and sneezing, when Alex had looked like he would shatter into pieces if John let out another noise of pain at the ache in his chest.

“Most doctors don’t call their patients ‘babe’. That’s very unprofessional of you, John Laurens. I’m going to call Georgetown and tell them that their doctor-professor-person who teaches… something complicated next semester is very bad at bedside manner. Or something.” Alex has a shit-eating grin as he pulls himself upwards and presses his lips to John’s, pinning him to the bed.

“I can’t believe you don’t remember what I teach, Alexander. So rude.” John pouts and Alex leans down to kiss it away. “Seriously, Alex, stop, you’re going to get sick-”

“John, I’ve already been sick, just let me kiss you-”

“Alex-”

But his lips are soft and John hasn’t kissed Alex properly in _ages_ , he realizes, because they’ve both been sick and Alex had work and John had finals week and Alex is so careful, makes sure to give time between kisses so John can breathe, doesn’t press tightly against his chest, doesn’t comment when John pulls away every so often to be sick and gross against Alex’s shoulder, and it’s New Year’s, so what the hell?

“I love you so much,” Alex says breathlessly when John stops them, yet again, to sneeze against Alex’s shirt sleeve. “John Laurens, you make me so fucking happy. Thank you for taking care of me and focusing me and holding me and helping me through nightmares and kissing me-”

“Alex, it’s very difficult to accomplish that last one when your lips are still moving.” John traces a finger down Alexander’s cheek, watching as he shivers under the touch, and smiles at his reaction.

“John, I’m serious. I know- I know I can be tough to handle sometimes, with the nightmares and the anxiety and the getting sick all the time, especially because I know I’m not here enough, but you love me anyway and you help me with everything I ask and even the things I don’t ask because I’m scared, and I just want you to know how much you mean to me, okay? Because I love you so, so much and I’m so grateful for you.” Alex peppers John’s face with kisses, trying to hide the tears forming in his eyes, and John grins up at him.

“God, Alexander, you make me into a mess. Come here, my love.” John curls around his boyfriend, essentially spooning him while he strokes Alex’s hair. “You don’t handle people you love, Alex. You just love them. It was never a problem to help you, and it never will be. I love taking care of you, darling. I love waking you up in the morning and seeing you light up when you see me. I love holding you after a bad day at work because you trust me enough to let me see you that way. I love holding you in general, actually. You love me so much and I’m so grateful for it, Alexander, because it’s constant and I don’t have to doubt that it- and you- will be here in the morning. You’ve seen me come apart at the seams from stress and depression and my dad and so many other things and you’re still here and I just love you so much, Alexander.” Alex turns around and he buries himself in Alex’s chest and just lets himself exist here for a moment, where it’s quiet and peaceful and the only thing he needs to do is listen to Alex’s heart beat in time with his own.

“I’m never not going to be here, John.”

“I know.”

They stay like that for a while, just looking at each other, until Alex sneezes and John dissolves into congested giggles as he tries to find a clean tissue. He offers the box before a blushing Alex blows his nose.

“I kind of ruined the moment,” Alex mumbles, still very red as he sniffles. John kisses his nose before sneezing himself and sitting up.

“It’s okay, baby. I need a shower anyway, because I’m stuffy and gross. Come on, it’ll be warm.” He tugs on Alex’s hand softly before kissing his knuckles.

“John, I am 110% certain that neither of us have the energy for shower sex. Don’t make me get out of my warm blanket cocoon just to be disappointed. Please, John.” Alex pouts, but John pulls anyway, eventually freeing Alexander from the throes of his blankets (or half-dragging a grumpy Treasury Secretary out of bed, whatever).

“I’m not talking about sex, baby, though- yeah, no, I’m way too tired for sex. When you got home from work freezing last week, I got to wash your hair and get you warmed up. I thought maybe we could do that again?” Now John is the one blushing, looking down at his socks as if they might answer him as he sniffles again.

“Oh. Oh, of course, John, come here.” Alex leaves his clothes in a pile vaguely near the bed and helps take off John’s hoodie and sweatpants before pulling him under the hot stream of water. “You, ah, might need to lean down though, babe. I am not tall enough to do this.”

Alex’s fingers are soft and gentle in his hair, chasing away grime and the faint traces of a headache with ease. He’s warm and quiet, for once, as John relaxes under his quick fingers. Alex kisses down his spine and across his chest as he washes John, tender and warm and _safe_. All too soon, Alexander is quickly rinsing the shampoo from his own hair and ushering him out of the shower.

“You’re starting to fade, John, you look exhausted.” The heat of the water and Alex’s skin had masked it, but he was starting to feel cooler now, and with the loss of heat came a powerful headache between his eyes and a loud, hacking cough. “Hey, hey, alright, come on, let’s get you to bed. I don’t like the sound of that.” Alex has that little crinkle between his eyebrows that he gets when he’s nervous, and John wants to kiss it away but he just sneezes and coughs again, this one worse, and oh, _Jesus_ , his chest hurts. “Yeah, I _really_ don’t like the sound of that. Come on, you, bed.” Alex bundles him into warm pajamas and ushers him into their bed, eyes soft as he pulls the blankets up to John’s chin.

“Are you gonna be mad if I sleep through midnight?” John mumbles, looking up at Alexander with big, nervous eyes. “Because I’m really tired, but I like kissing you.” Alex laughs and joins him in bed with a smile.

“No, John, I won’t be mad. We’ll have plenty of other New Year’s kisses. Go to sleep, my love.” He hums softly, a tune that John doesn’t recognize, and he’s almost asleep when Alex leans down and whispers, “However, I would like one last kiss for this year.”

And John can give him that.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at fallenspock.tumblr.com.
> 
> happy new year, darlings!! <3


End file.
